


Teacher's Pet

by asyouwish76



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Falling In Love, Forgiveness, Good Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Post-War, Professor Hermione Granger, Romance, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asyouwish76/pseuds/asyouwish76
Summary: Draco Malfoy begrudgingly returns to Hogwarts to repeat his 7th year. He expects some backlash and anger, but what he doesn't expect is Hermione Granger as his Transfiguration professor. But maybe in this post war world she'll teach him more than just transfiguration. Love? Forgiveness? Anything is possible. A/U Dramione rated M for language and sexy times later
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 26
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy stared at the scarlet steam engine before him. To say he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be going back to Hogwarts to repeat his seventh year would be an understatement. He’d been dreading it for weeks now, but it was the last promise he’d made to his mother before she went to Azkaban to complete her year long sentence. He was regretting that promise as he watched the familiar scene of parents sending their children off and students enthusiastically greeting the friends they hadn’t seen all summer. He saw many sad faces too. Students searching for friends only to remember that they were gone. He saw the apprehensive faces of the parents of the new first years who were sending their children to a school that had been a battleground only six months ago. He saw kids he had known most of his lift walk right past him as if he were invisible. And he was glad for it. He knew if they saw him they would hold him responsible as a Death Eater, even if the court hadn’t. He couldn’t blame them really. 

He also felt the loss. As much as he’d hated Crabbe and Goyle toward the end, he couldn’t help but miss them as he stood alone on the platform. No parents to send him off, no friends to greet, just Draco and his bad life decisions to keep him company. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he sighed and stepped onto the train without being noticed. 

Silently slipping into an empty carriage, he sealed the door behind him, no longer beholden to the rules regarding magic outside of school. The train had been magically expanded this year to make up for the extra students, and Draco didn’t relish the idea of sharing a cabin. After all, just because he wasn’t an evil megalomaniac didn’t mean he wasn’t still a selfish prick. Glancing out the window, he saw the familiar faces of the so called Golden Trio. The sneer that came to his face was practically a reflex at this point. Though he literally owed his life to Potter. Twice over, after Potter had testified on his and his mother’s behalf at their trials. He let the sneer fall and just observed.

They were surrounded by friends and worshiping fans smiling and laughing as if it was any other September 1st, but Draco knew better. He could see the circles under Granger’s eyes, the extra weight around Weasley’s middle, the slight gauntness to Ginny Weasley’s face, and the slump to Potter’s shoulders. He had spent years looking for their flaws to exploit, it wasn’t difficult for him to see now. This summer had been hard for the heroes as well as the villains it seemed. 

At least I still look good, he thought to himself drawing the shade and settling back in to the seat. The final whistle blew and Potter finally boarded the train along with the rest of the stragglers. A few people tugged at his door, but the spell held. He leaned back and closed his eyes, hoping this train ride would go by fast. Unlike past years where he spent the ride with his friends, excited to be going back to school and get away from the cold manor he called home, this time he closed his eyes and tried not to picture the faces of the dead. 

Soon enough the train slowed and Draco woke from a surprisingly deep sleep. Yet, as always, he still felt tired. Exiting the train he heard the familiar “Firs’ years o’er here” and was surprised to find it somewhat comforting. Until that is, he rounded the corner and came face to face with a thestral. He had been able to see them for a few years now, but they never ceased to unsettle him. He felt like they were judging him for the role he played in those deaths. Or rather, the lack of role. Though it was true he had never killed anyone, he had also never stepped in to save them either. Their milky white eyes followed him as he made his way to a carriage, seeming to see straight through him. Draco suppressed a shiver.

If the skeletal horses were judging him they at least seemed to understand his need for solitude and the carriage took off before any other students could climb in. 

As the castle came in to view, Draco felt his apprehension rise. He couldn’t help but think of the last time he was here. When a battle was raging and bolts of light were whipping past in every direction as witches and wizards fought for their lives. Everything had been such a blur that night. Longer than that night really. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t remember much of the last two years. But as he took in the castle, the highest tower stood out to him against the night sky. The place where Dumbledore---

He swallowed thickly. He wouldn’t think of it. Not right now. 

He moved his eyes to the beam of light at the castle’s entrance and watched as other carriages arrived and students ran to the castle. When his turn arrived he climbed out of the carriage and gave a curt nod to the thestrals. Steeling himself, he entered through the large open wooden doors. The entrance hall had been repaired to it’s former glory. He had been half afraid that the damage would still be there, but the bricks had been replaced and the paintings repaired. It was as if nothing had happened. Except for a plaque next to the Great Hall doors. It read:

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light   
–Albus Dumbledore

May we never forgot the lives lost or the battle won  
May 2nd, 1998”

Draco tore his eyes away from the plaque and looked into the great hall. Suddenly, he knew without a doubt that he absolutely could not go in there tonight. Not when the floor had been littered with bodies of the dead and the cries of the injured the last time he had been in there. He wasn’t hungry anyway. 

He waited until he saw a Slytherin prefect and pulled her aside.

“What’s the common room password?” he asked, his voice a little raspy. Was this the first time he had spoken today? 

“Er...well, I’m not supposed to say until after the feast,” the girl said uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes.

He only looked at her and raised an eyebrow. That was all it took.

“It’s ‘tradition’,” she said begrudgingly. 

“Thank you,” he said, walking away without another glance.

He walked the familiar path to his dorm, already planning on going straight to bed. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find that the only bed in the room was his, but he was nonetheless. He’d known no other slytherins from his year would return, but seeing the empty room solidified it. He was just glad he didn’t have to share with anyone new. 

Not bothering to change he gracefully flopped on to his bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow was the first day of classes. Draco had never been one for bravery, but he knew he couldn’t hide in his room for much longer. But for tonight, he could be blessedly alone. He would deal with tomorrow when it came.   
And came it did. Much too early for Draco’s liking. 

He went through his morning routine and made his way to the great hall for breakfast. Luckily, no images of bodies invaded his mind this morning. He sat at an end by himself eating some toast as Professor Slughorn passed out timetables. First up was Transfiguration. He vaguely wondered if Professor McGonagall would teach the class as well as her headmistress duties as he wandered into the classroom.

A few students were already there; the Patil twins, Longbottom, Ernie something or other, and Potter, Weasley and Granger. He quietly took a seat in the back and pulled out the class book. He heard Granger laugh at something Weasley said as more classmates sprinkled into the class. She stood over their desks as the three of them all chatted about some nonsense or other. There was something different about her today, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

After a few more people joined the class, Granger finally left her friends. But instead of going to a desk she went to the front of the class. 

“Hello everyone,” she said, “as you know from the feast last night I will be teaching Transfiguration this year.”

Everything she said after that was a buzzing in Draco’s ears. That’s when he noticed what was different. She was wearing plain black robes instead of her school robes.

Hermione Granger, his teacher? Oh fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets a surprising request from Professor McGonagall

6 Weeks Earlier

“I’m sorry Professor, you want me to do what?” Hermione asked in shock. 

“To teach Transfiguration,” Professor McGonagall calmly repeated, as if she hadn’t just said the very last thing the teenage girl in front of her could have expected. 

Hermione looked at the older woman, dumbfounded. Had she really just heard what she thought she did? When the new Headmistress had requested a meeting she assumed it would be about her class load and upcoming N.E.W.T.S., never something as absurd as this.

She looked at the Headmistress, waiting for a smile or laugh to indicate what was so clearly a joke. She couldn’t teach! She hadn’t even graduated for crying out loud. When Professor McGonagall only continued to stare at her calmly she knew this was no practical joke.

“Surely there must be someone better qualified,” Hermione sputtered.

“In fact, there are many more qualified, Miss Granger, but none willing or available,” McGonagall replied. Sighing, she took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. For the first time, Hermione saw just how tired her mentor looked. 

“A witch as bright as yourself must be able to recognize the precarious position we are in,” McGonagall said solemnly, “this school was a battleground not six months ago. There’s not much incentive for new teachers to join our staff at the moment. I would teach the classes but as headmistress I cannot do both.”

“But I haven’t even graduated, or passed my N.E.W.T.S’s or—or anything!” Hermione argued. She understood what McGonagall meant about the position the school was in, of course she did, she had been at that very battle after all. But how could she be the best option? She was only almost 19, she didn’t know how to teach. But then she thought of Harry and the Order of the Phoenix. He hadn’t known how to teach either, and yet he figured it out. 

“You and I both know that you could have graduated at the end of fifth year had you wished and had it been allowed, as for N.E.W.T.S if you accept the position, you will be allowed to take them at the end of the month to be graded immediately. Upon passing, the job and diploma are yours.”

Hermione was still having trouble wrapping her head around the whole idea. Teaching had never been something she’d thought of doing. Her plan had been to go back to Hogwarts, enjoy a quiet year with her friends for once, pass the N.E.W.T.S., and graduate. 

Though the more she thought about it, the more it appealed to her. She could help the school that she had called home all these years as well as her favorite professor. And after all, her friends would be there, she could still enjoy the year with them. She could still take her tests and graduate. It would just be the order that was different. She would have to make an intense study schedule for the next few weeks, but if she cut out socializing, slept an hour less a night, and took less time for meals she was sure she could pass. 

Maybe the idea wasn’t so absurd after all. What did she have to lose? If she didn’t pass the N.E.W.T.S she would return as a student like she originally planned.

“I, of course, will assist with anything I can. Lesson plans and the sort,” Professor McGonagall said, seeing the wheels turning in the young girls head.

Hermione chewed her lip for a moment longer, clearly thinking through every scenario she could, but then she straightened her spine and the Headmistress knew what her answer before she even opened her mouth.

“I accept,” she said. It came out with less confidence than she had hoped, but the decision was made and the answer was given. 

Professor McGonagall smiled more broadly than Hermione had ever seen. She smiled back. This would certainly be quite the adventure.

A few weeks later

Hermione watched as a small speck in the sky grew ever closer. Her stomach twisted itself in knots as the tawny owl approached. Somehow, she knew exactly what was in the letter between its talons. Her N.E.W.T.S. results. 

The Burrow, normally filled with noise and movement, was a much quieter affair since the loss of George. The air was thick with grief and things unsaid, but as Hermione shakily removed the letter from the owl’s foot, an air of excitement began to build. The whole household had been abuzz when Hermione told them of McGonagall’s unusual request.

Ron, had at first been dismayed at the thought of his girlfriend being his teacher, but he quickly came around to the idea when he realized he could slack off in her class. Hermione, of course, told him in no uncertain terms that he would not be allowed to cheat, but she wasn’t quite sure how much he had heard of that because she had also told him that she would get her own set of rooms in the castle. 

Harry and Ginny were happy for her and excited to get inside information and gossip. Though it was mostly Ginny that was excited about gossip. Harry was just glad to go back to school without the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. Maybe he could finally get through a school year without a big showdown at the end of the year. 

Hermione opened the letter with shaking hands, but did not read it.

“I can’t do it,” she exclaimed, passing the letter off to Ron, “you read it.”

“C’mon Hermione, we all know you passed,” he said, unfolding the letter and scanning it quickly.

Hermione looked at him expectantly. He looked up at her, his expression unreadable.

“Oh, I’ve failed, haven’t I?” She asked. She didn’t study enough, she knew it. She could have survived on six hours of sleep instead of seven, and why in the name of Merlin had she allowed her boyfriend to distract her so much?  
“Hermione, you got an Outstanding in every subject,” Ron said, holding the letter out to her.

“I did?” she asked, snatching the letter out of his hands. 

“Of course you did,” Ginny said ecstatically, “you are, after all, the brightest witch of our age”

Hermione stared at the letter in shock. 

Transfiguration – Outstanding  
Charms – Outstanding  
Potions – Outstanding  
Defense Against the Dark Arts – Outstanding

Her eyes started tearing up as she read the rest of the page. Everything she had worked so hard for all of these years had finally come to pass. She had always known she was just as worthy as any other witch or wizard who went to Hogwarts, but a small voice in the back of her head had long been telling her that she was nothing but a fraud. A mudblood who didn’t deserve to be a part of this world. Granted that voice was tiny but she couldn’t deny that it was part of the reason why she worked so hard. And now, here she was with proof in her hands. For some reason this piece of paper proved to her even more than helping to defeat Voldemort that she belonged here. Here, where everyone took the same tests and had the same opportunities to learn. She blinked the tears away and smiled as her friends enveloped her in a big hug. 

September 1st

Hermione looked at the scarlet steam engine in front of her and took in a deep breath as a sense of comort washed over her. The train station had always held such an air of excitement. Students re-connecting after a summer apart, wonder at what the year would hold, chaos as parents tried to make sure their children had everything they needed. This year was no different in that respect, but there was something else too. Something new. Grief. 

Hermione watched as students ran to each other and hugged, only to cry as they talked of friends and family who had been lost. She saw parents of the new first years look more uncertain than ever as they sent their children off to the school that had witnessed such horror. She herself found herself looking for friends that she knew wouldn’t be there, either because they had not survived or had opted not to return. This year would not be like the others, she knew that, but she hoped they would find a ray of brightness to begin healing.

Though she didn’t quite feel like it, she smiled brightly as classmates came to greet them. She hugged everyone and laughed at their jokes. She held Ron’s hand and squeezed tightly when it started to become too much. Ron, ever the extrovert, didn’t notice, taking his hand from Hermione’s as he gestured grandly while telling a story of their time on the run last year. Hermione still smiled and laughed along, but the brightness was gone. Looking at Harry, she noticed him doing the same.

After finally escaping to their own compartment, Hermione, along with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna enjoyed a nice relaxing ride to the school they could call home for one more year. They played games, caught up, and ate snacks off the trolley. And for the first time in over a year, things felt normal. Easy, even. Hermione hoped the feeling would last.

As they exited the train they heard the familiar call of “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over ‘ere” and grinned broadly at each other before racing over to Hagrid, leaving Ginny, Neville and Luna to follow at a more leisurely pace..

“Hagrid!” Hermione exclaimed, waving as she ran toward him.

“Ello you three!” He said warmly, clapping Harry on the back. Harry stumbled, but smiled as if he had been waiting for that. 

Hermione hugged him, glad to see the gamekeeper healthy and happy.

“I ‘ear we’ve got a new staff member,” he said covertly, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at Hermione.

Hermione blushed, still getting used to the idea of being faculty rather than a student. She had been so relieved when Professor McGonagall told her she would be allowed to ride the Hogwarts Express with her friends.

“Get on up to the castle now,” Hagrid said, gently shooing them away as he ushered the first years toward the lake. 

As the group of six went to find a carriage, a silence befell them as the thestrals came into view. Hermione had seen depictions of the creatures in books and had of course ridden one at the end of her fifth year, but until now, she had not seen them in person. There was a certain beauty to them to be sure, but all their appearance did was remind her of the losses that were suffered. 

They boarded the carriage and took off toward the castle.

As the castle came into view Hermione first felt relief, the turrets and towers a comfort no person could provide, but then the memories started flooding in and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. Mounds of grass looked like bodies, the wind turned to screams, and her heart began to beat faster. A thick silence fell over the group. Hermione felt shaky and restless, as if she would have to dodge a curse at any minute. Looking across from her she saw Ginny silently crying, no doubt thinking about Fred. Harry had a distant look on his face as his hand unconsciously reached up to his scar. Ron looked lost, while Neville and Luna scooted closer to each other. The happiness from the train quickly evaporated.

It was an oddly quiet affair as students filtered through the grand doors and into the once destroyed entrance hall. Hermione wasn’t surprised to see that it had been repaired to it’s former glory, but despite the repairs it didn’t feel the same as before. She doubted it ever would. Ron and Ginny hesitated when they reached the doors of the great hall, no doubt remembering seeing Fred’s body laid out with so many others. Steeling her nerves, Hermione crossed the threshold first. As a teacher, she could not let herself become distraught with memories. She had to be strong.

She held her hands out to Ron and Harry, and together they approached the Gryffindor table. As they neared the table, a sudden round of cheers erupted. Hermione looked around in bewilderment until she realized the cheers were for them. Unbidden, tears came to her eyes at the display. Ron was grinning wildly as Harry smiled with reddened cheeks. Her and her boys, how she loved them.

Professor McGonagall entered and the room quieted. It was at this moment that Hermione remembered she was supposed to be at the head table.

“I have to go sit with the rest of the professors, but I’ll see you after the feast” she said quietly, slipping away.

As the rest of the students entered, she got some curious looks from those who knew her, but no one said anything.

Finally the doors closed and the sorting began. Though the first year class was doubled this year, only the new students had to be sorted so it went fairly quickly.

“Now that you have all been sorted and seated,” Professor McGonagall began, “I would like welcome you all to Hogwarts. Our world has faced terrible loss and fear, but tonight we celebrate. We celebrate new times to come and the war that was won. We celebrate the memory of the lives lost for they would not want us to mourn on a night like this, and above all we celebrate the lives that were saved. May we move on from the past, but may we never forget the lessons that were learned.”

The great hall that was usually full of chatter and laughter became solemn with McGonagall’s speech, as more than a few students wiped at their eyes. After a moment of silence, she went on.

“In happier news we have a new staff member to welcome. Taking over the role of Transfiguration teacher, please allow me to introduce Professor Hermione Granger,” the headmistress said, practically beaming.

Hermione started at her own name following the word ‘professor’. How strange this would be. She stood up as the crowd cheered, albeit some confusedly. She was surprised to see that even many of the Slytherins were clapping along. Perhaps this would be easier than she had thought.

After the feast, McGonagall brought her to her rooms. The very rooms that the headmistress herself had occupied until recently. As the door opened, Hermione was surprised to see that it looked very much like the Gryffindor common room.

“The rooms decorate themselves to match the house of the occupant,” McGonagall explained, “but you can change the décor to anything you’d like.” 

Hermione looked around in amazement. Part of her still couldn’t believe this was real. She took in the rich reds and golds, the mahogany furniture, and the roaring fire. She might change some things to better fit her style, but for tonight, the Gryffindor common room was just what she needed.

“I’ll leave you to get settled,” the headmistress said, leaving out the portrait hole. 

Hermione all but squealed and ran past the sitting room to her bedroom where she promptly flopped on the bed. This was more privacy than she’d ever had. She could get used to this.

The next morning, Hermione woke bright and early and full of nerves. Today was the first day of classes. Her first class? 7th years. Her former classmates. She had to admit that she had been relieved not to see any of the Slytherins from her year. Not having to face them would certainly make this easier.

She could barely eat breakfast, so consumed with nerves was she, but she forced down a couple bites and then went to her classroom. Her classroom. Such a strange thing to say. 

Harry and Ron were the first to arrive, and though she had just seen them, she had to admit their presence eased her nerves. They took their seats at the front of the classroom and as she stood and talked with them, she felt more and more at ease. Ron made her laugh with his jokes about never having to do homework, and Harry boosted her confidence by telling her how great she would do.

She was laughing at one of Ron’s jokes when the last face she expected to see walked right in and took a seat all the way in the back. Draco Malfoy. 

She’d heard he was coming back, but after not seeing him last night she had assumed he’d changed his mind. This could complicate things, she thought, as she tried not to let it show. Something about Malfoy seemed different. Quieter, perhaps? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She waited for the sneer and the rude remarks, but they never came. He only sat in his seat and took out his textbook.

When the last student finally entered, Hermione stood at the front of the class. 

“Hello everyone,” she said, “as you know from the feast last night I will be teaching Transfiguration this year.”

Draco Malfoy’s mouth dropped open in shock.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has his first class with Hermione

Draco was in complete and utter shock. Hermione Granger, his professor? Oh merlin, did he have to call her professor? He hoped not. Something about that just felt...wrong. Kinky even. Not that he minded a bit of kink. Just not with Hermione Granger. 

He didn’t hate her anymore. He didn’t really feel much of anything for her or anything else actually.

But really, why did it have to be her? Was this his punishment? A cosmic joke? To be taught by the person he constantly came in second to. The person, for which, being second to meant severe punishment at the hands of his father. Well, hey, at least he might be first now. Not that dear father was around to see. 

“For most of you, this class will mostly be a review from last year. But as we all know, there were other things on our minds than education, so perhaps you’ll find that you’ll learn more than you expect. That being said, I put a lot of work into this class and I expect the same in return. If you already know some of the material then it will be all the easier to complete the work,” she said steadily.

He looked at the young woman in front of him as she spoke about her expectations and other things he didn’t quite care about at the moment. He was too lost in thought wondering how this came to be. Unless he was mistaken, she hadn’t graduated. And how in the name of Merlin was she allowed to teach her friends? Her boyfriend? Did the powers that be not consider that? And most of all, how was he going to call her Professor? He just couldn’t get past that.

He finally snapped to when she waved her wand and his book disappeared off his desk only to be replaced by a paper bag holding various small items. 

“Since I know many of you are Quidditch fans, your assignment for today is to take the items in front of you and transfigure them one by one to assemble a miniature Quidditch pitch,” she said. She looked excited. Knowing her, she had probably spent hours coming up with this assignment and was giddy as all hell to see it completed.

Draco looked at the items in front of him. A paper bag, a long string of yarn, an old quill, a button, and several other odds and ends. 

He raised his hand.

She flinched almost imperceptibly and then stood ever so slightly straighter. He was surprised to find that he felt a little guilty for having that effect on her. Had she actually been affected by his taunts? That used to be all he wished for. But now, well, now things were different. He didn’t wish her rainbows and puppies, but he certainly didn’t want someone to flinch at the mere idea of him speaking.

“Malfoy,” she said, gesturing to him.

“Do you want it to be mobile or static?” he asked quietly, no taunt to his voice whatsoever. 

He could tell that she hadn’t been expecting that, but she recovered quickly. 

“It’s not required to have moving parts, but if you wish, you may do so for extra credit,” she responded.

He nodded and started sorting his items out on his desk.

“All of the spells for this assignment should be ones you already know, but if you get stuck I will gladly help,” she said, addressing the whole class, “Please begin. You have the rest of the period,”

Draco looked at the items in front of him, thinking how best to go about this. He finished sorting the items into what he thought would work best for which parts and got to work, blocking out the sounds of his classmates as they tried various spells.

He started by turning the paper bag into grass, and then using his wand to cut the yarn into six pieces for the goal posts. He worked steadily and quietly. It wasn’t long before he had his pitch constructed, and was just finishing up making little players out of pieces of parchment, when the professor herself came over. He put the last player on the pitch and cast the enchantment that would have them play a miniature game.

“This is-- well, it’s quite impressive Malfoy,” she said, mild surprise coloring her voice. He too was surprised to find that he felt something like pride at the compliment.

Looking around the classroom he saw that his classmates had not found the assignment quite as effortless as he had. In fact, he was the only one finished. Potter had completed most of the pieces but had not been able to assemble them, Weasley’s pitch was lopsided and one of the goal posts was still a biscuit, one of the Patil twins had enchanted everything to be pink and shimmery, and Ernie what’s his name had completed the task but as he tried to make the pieces move it fell apart. He looked like he might cry.

“Just because I’m evil doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” he said sardonically.

“You’re not--” she was interrupted by the bell ringing. She looked at him apologetically and ran off to the front of the class.

“Leave your work on your desk, and please make a list of the spells you used and the degree of effectiveness to be discussed next class,” she half shouted as everyone packed up. 

He was one of the last to leave, and as he did he looked back to see Granger slip into her chair smiling like a fool. The thought crossed his mind that she looked rather pretty when she smiled. 

Then he shook his head almost violently. No! That was not going to happen. They weren’t enemies anymore, but he wouldn’t under any circumstances be attracted to her. 

He blocked out the little voice saying he’d always been attracted to her.


	4. Chapter 4

“Professor Granger! Professor Granger,” a voice called out from down the hall.

Hermione turned around to see one of her third years barreling toward her. She had quickly become accustomed to being called professor, and in the almost two months that she’d been teaching she found that she loved it more than she had ever expected. She loved seeing students faces light up when they got a spell right, or when a struggling student finally grasped a concept that had been alluding them. Most of all, she loved her students. Most of them, that is. There were some in the older years who gave her attitude, having known her as a student, but for the most part she got the respect deserved of a Hogwarts professor.

“I did it! I practiced all night and I finally got it!” the child in front of her exclaimed proudly.

“That’s brilliant, Millie! I knew you would,” she replied, smiling warmly. Millie Loftis was a bright witch but transfiguration was proving to be quite a difficult subject for her. Hermione had taken to giving her a private lesson here and there and had quite a soft spot for the girl. 

“Thanks Professor,” she said smiling broadly, before running off to dinner.

Hermione, on the other hand, was heading to her office to finish up grading some work for her sixth years. She had just settled in and began reading the first paper when Ron appeared in her doorway.

“Thought I’d find you in here,” he said playfully, leaning against the doorframe crossing his arms. His tone was playful, but there was a hint of something else in there too. Sarcasm, perhaps?

She looked up, and smiled tentatively at her boyfriend. She wanted to be excited to see him, but lately most of their conversations ended in a fight. She knew he was having a hard time adjusting to life after the war, what with losing Fred and all, but frankly she was too, and he didn’t seem to have much consideration for that. Nor did he seem to care that she had a job that she had to do.

“Yes,” she said, “I just came in here to grade some papers.” 

“Well, I’ve come to bring you to dinner and I won’t take no for an answer,” he said. The smile still played at his face, but his ears were reddening. A sure sign that anger was close to the surface.

“Ron,” she said gently, “I’m sorry, but I have to get this done tonight.” 

He sighed and stepped further into the room. Before he could say anything, she continued.

“You know that Thursdays are the busiest day of the week for me. Besides, we spent all last night together, it’s not like we don’t see each other.”

She could almost see the gears working in his head, the temper straining to come out. He took a deep breath, seemingly getting control of his temper.

She also let out a breath. Maybe there wouldn’t be a fight tonight.

“Besides, I know for a fact that you have a transfiguration assignment due tomorrow,” she said winking, trying to sound playful, but really trying to encourage him to do the work. 

“I’d rather be with you,” he purred, coming up behind her and rubbing her shoulders.

“Me too,” she sighed contentedly as he worked on a knot on her shoulder, “but we both have work to do tonight. There’s always tomorrow,”

So far he hadn’t done a single assignment for her class. She’d tried bringing it up but he always brushed her off with a joke about not needing to do the work when your girlfriend was the professor.

She wanted to believe he was joking, but the longer he went without turning anything in the harder it was to believe. But it was just so absurd to think. No one else, not even her closest friends, expected or got any special treatment. She’d wanted to ask him outright for awhile, but she didn’t want to start a fight. She didn’t want to rock the boat on an already stormy sea. But tonight something within her told her that she couldn’t let it go on any longer. Steeling her nerves, she spoke up.

“Ron, you haven’t done a single assignment for my class,” she said pushing away from him, and turning to face him. 

Ron chuckled in her ear, pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her.

“Just mark me down for an O like usual,” he said against her neck.

Wait...what? Was he being serious? 

“What are you talking about?” She asked, pushing him away.

“The grades you’ve been giving me,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He reached for her again, but she stepped out of his reach.

“What grades? Ron, you’re going to fail my class if you don’t start doing your homework,” she said. 

“You can’t fail me,” he laughed, “I’m your boyfriend.”

She looked at him dumbfounded. He truly believed that he could skate by because he was her boyfriend. She felt like she’d been slapped in the face. When had she ever even hinted at that? Sure she had helped him with his homework occasionally over the years, but she had never outright cheated. He knew how seriously she took this. She would never jeopardize it over favoritism. She thought he knew that. She thought he knew her. 

“Do you not know me at all?” She exclaimed.

He looked at her, finally realizing she was upset.

“Calm down, Mione. It’s not that big of a deal,” he said, annoyance coloring his voice. 

“It’s cheating Ron,” she said, crossing her arms, “how can you expect me to do that?”

“It’s not cheating, it’s just giving me a break. I still do the classwork. What’s the big deal if I don’t do the homework?” 

“The big deal Ron, is that it’s wrong. I thought you knew me better than this,” 

His face turned red in anger or embarrassment, she wasn’t sure which. Probably both, knowing him.

“Why do you even care?” he spat. “You aren’t even a real professor. You’re just a filler until they can find somebody better.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She had told him that in confidence. He always knew exactly what to say to hurt her the most. He used his temper as a weapon and called it standing up for himself. In that moment, she knew she couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t keep walking on eggshells trying not to make him mad. She couldn’t let someone who supposedly loved her use her own insecurities against her. 

Things had been rocky between them for a while. The whole time if she was being honest with herself. It was time to end it. She could suddenly see that clearly.

“We’re done,” she said quietly, “Leave.”

“You’re going to break up with me over this?” he asked, shocked.

“No Ron, I’m breaking up with you because you don’t know me at all,” she said. 

His face turned redder than she had ever seen it and his whole body tensed. For the splittest of split seconds she wondered if he was going to curse her or hit her. But she knew in her soul that however bad his temper was he would never physically harm her. 

“You’ll regret this Hermione,” he said, storming out. He slammed the door so hard that she wondered if the wood cracked. 

Once he was gone she fell into her chair and sobbed.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco let his feet follow the familiar path to the astronomy tower, as he had many times over the last two months. He hadn’t been there since that fateful night, and though he had tried many times he never made it past the first stair. Something in him told him that he had to back to that place no matter how much he didn’t want to. He didn’t know what he expected to find up there. Guilt? Punishment? Forgiveness? The specter of Dumbledore blaming him for his death? All he knew was that he had to face it, otherwise he would never be free. Ultimately, that was all Draco had ever wanted. Freedom. 

Freedom to think for himself. Freedom to make his own decisions. Freedom to be himself, instead of this monster he had been molded into. 

He contemplated the stairway in front of him. Looking around to make sure no one saw him, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his nerves. His reputation may have changed, but no one needed to see his weakness. Alone was the only place he could allow that side of him to show. 

As he shakily placed his foot on the first step he let loose a breath. Something felt different tonight. He felt different. More sure of himself, ready to face whatever was at the top of those stairs. Suddenly, he knew without a doubt that he would make it up those stairs tonight. 

When he finally reached the top of the tower, panting and out of breath, he had almost forgotten what he had been so worried about. It was just a bunch of stairs leading up to a tower. Nothing more. Until, that is, he looked over and saw the spot. The exact spot where Dumbledore had been standing wandless with Draco’s own wand trained on him. The spot where instead of pleading for his own life, Dumbledore pleaded for his. The spot where he had known unequivocally that he did not want to end anyone’s life. Ever. The spot where Snape pushed him to the side and killed the old man anyway. The spot where he lost all choice.

The air felt thick and the world swam before his eyes as he tried to breathe but found that his lungs didn’t want to work. He all but fell to the ground from the force of the memories. He lay there gasping, closing his eyes to try to block out the memories. He let out a cry of pure anguish, knotting his hands in his hair. They were drowning him and he was powerless against them. The pain of the memories washed over him, and he felt as if he were living it all over again. Tears strained against his eyes and he didn’t bother wiping them away. 

But then the strangest thing happened. He opened his eyes and saw the stars stretching out in the vast sky above him. Suddenly the panic didn’t feel as consuming. He found the constellation he was named after, tracing it with his finger tip. He looked for more constellations. Any he could recognize, and eventually he could breathe again. The panic was abating, and the memory filled place that he had so dreaded slowly turned back into a simple tower.

As he lay there, unsure of how much time had passed, he felt a sort of calm coming over him. An acceptance that he hadn’t felt since arriving at this forsaken school again. He had done and witnessed terrible things because he hadn’t felt he’d had a choice, but there was no changing the past no matter how much he wished there was. He felt he was at a crossroads where he could either dwell on the past or move on to the future. He thought the future sounded much more pleasant. 

The astronomy tower had once been one of his favorite places in the school. Not only did it offer a great vantage point of the grounds to spy on his enemies, it was also peaceful. Or at least it had been. Just like the room of requirement had once been. He still hadn’t gotten up the nerve to visit that one. He didn’t think he ever would. But he wasn’t really sure he needed to anymore. The memories were there whether or not he visited. Maybe it was time he stopped punishing himself.

He didn’t know how long he had spent laying there peacefully staring at the stars, but after awhile he heard a sound on the stairs. Foot steps to be precise. He couldn’t go down the stairs without being spotted, and he was in no mood to run into some couple on their way to snog. He retreated in the shadows, planning to sneak past whoever it was when they were distracted. 

But it wasn’t a couple. A lone figure finally emerged from the stairwell. A petite figure with bushy hair. A figure he would recognize anywhere. Granger. Must be doing rounds. But no, it was too early for that. As she stepped into the moonlight he could see that her eyes looked puffy. Had she been crying? She stepped closer to the edge, her face angled upward.

“You aren’t going to jump, are you?” he drawled, stepping out from the shadows.

Startled, she turned around wide-eyed.

“Malfoy, what are you doing here?” she asked, bringing her hand up to calm her beating heart.

“Just admiring the view,” he said nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pockets “You?”

“Oh, I just needed to get out of my office,” she said, but her voice got all funny like she was trying to hold back tears.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Should he comfort her? Ignore her? Leave? Make fun of her? No. Probably not that last one. 

“You weren’t really going to jump were you?” he asked. He inwardly cringed. That probably wasn’t the right thing to say either. If only Saint Potter were here instead, he would know how to deal with a crying Granger. 

“What? No of course not,” she said, chuckling lightly. But the tears were still in her eyes.

“Good. Cause you know I’d get blamed for your death,” he said, smirking slightly. She didn’t react, just stared straight ahead. He was just about to head for the door when she spoke.

“I broke up with Ron,” she blurted, then covered her mouth with her hands, shocked at her own admission.

He stepped closer, not surprised by what she said, but surprised that she said it to him. They weren’t exactly the best of friends. He had suspected Weasley was behind the tears from the start. There weren’t many things that would make Hermione Granger cry. He knew from firsthand experience, after all.

“Ah, so I see congratulations are in order?” he said, trying to lighten the mood. Weasley had never been good enough for Granger anyway. She should be glad to be rid of him.

She laughed. A little too much. But hey, it was better than crying. She swiped at her eyes surreptitiously and he pretended not to notice.

“I shouldn’t have told you that,” she said apologetically, “I’m your professor and you’re my student. Not to mention you’re my sworn enemy.” 

She rolled her eyes at the last bit, like it was some kind of fate they could never escape.

“Are we sworn enemies?” He asked, taking a few steps closer to her, “I don’t remember any kind of ceremony”

She just looked at him with a strange expression on her face. He thought he’d offended her somehow, but instead she giggled. Giggled. He’d just made Hermione Granger giggle. What was the world coming to?

“Malfoy...you’re funny,” she exclaimed, as if she had just discovered a secret. Her face was open and laughing. Something he had never seen from her before. Had her eyes always scrunched up that way when she smiled? And where did that dimple come from? He had found himself noticing more and more of these little characteristics over the last two months.

“That’s offensive,” he said sharply, pulling his attention away from her dimple and back to the conversation at hand, “I prefer to say I have an acerbic wit.” 

“Well, it’s nice to see that wit used for something other than making fun of my hair or teeth,” she said, shrugging, stepping closer so they were only a few feet apart. 

“Is that what Weasley did? Made fun of your hair so you dumped him?” he asked, trying to make a joke out of a serious question. 

Her eyes started to fill again but she held the tears in. 

“Something like that,” she responded, noncommittally. Clearly, she wasn’t going to comment further.

“Whatever it is I’m sure he deserved it, the git,” he said. Why she had ever been attracted to him was a mystery to Draco. Even he, the bully, could see that Weasley had continuously hurt her more than he ever could.

Looking at her with only the moonlight illuminating her he couldn’t help but think how pretty she looked. The hair he had once made fun of was bouncy and full of life, the moon glinting off it just so. Here in the dark with nothing between them, no past or misconceptions, he could imagine that they could be friends. Maybe more. He couldn’t help it when his eyes strayed to her full lips. Lips that hid a perfect smile. Kissable lips. Had she always been this beautiful? She was saying something. What was she saying?

“--nice to me?” she asked. 

He tore his eyes away from her lips. It had been too long since he’d even had time to think about a girl, let alone be with one. Besides, girls weren’t exactly lining up at his door to date an ex-death-eater.

“I guess there’s no reason to be anything else now,” he shrugged. 

“Hmm,” she agreed, unsure what to say. Instead, she turned and looked up at the stars. He wondered if she found them as calming as he did. He stepped up so they were shoulder to shoulder, a hairs breadth apart. 

He didn’t know how long they stayed that way, but all he could think of was kissing her. Merlin how he wanted to kiss her. How he’d wanted to kiss her for much longer than tonight. She filled his mind no matter how much he tried to push her out. Always had. 

She turned to him smiling slightly, and he faced her. Their faces much closer than he’d realized.

“I never thought I’d say this, but thank you Malfoy,” she said sincerely.

Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned over and touched her lips with his in a gentle kiss. He was shocked at his own daring, but more shocking was when she kissed him back. 

It was only when he brought his hands to her waist that she seemed to realize what she was doing. She pushed him back and stepped away.

“I—I’m sorry, I can’t--” she said, running away. 

Draco looked after her. Had that really just happened? Had he kissed Hermione Granger? And liked it? This had to be one of the strangest nights of his life. 

He didn’t know what was happening to him, but one thing he did know was that he would kiss her again. And soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the kiss and the breakup

The next morning found Hermione pacing her classroom as she waited for her seventh years to arrive. To say she was dreading this class was an understatement. She had two major reasons to be apprehensive and their names were Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy.

What kind of mess had she found herself in? In the last 24 hours she had broken up with the man she thought she would be with forever, and kissed her enemy. Worse than that, she’d liked the kiss. On some level she’d known she and Ron were over for quite some time. They had never been quite right as a couple. But that kiss with Malfoy, that was a true shock. In fact, their whole interaction had been a shock.

True, he had been different this year. She had to admit that she looked forward to seeing him in class, if only to see someone else as serious about schoolwork as herself. She had found herself studying him more and more over the weeks. The way his brow furrowed when he was working out a problem, the carefully crafted blank face he pulled up whenever anyone spoke to him, the quiet pride he took in his work. He was quite attractive really. And then last night she had seen a completely different side to him. A softer side, a funny side, a human side. A person that she could actually be friends with.

So wrapped up was she in thoughts of their kiss that she had all but forgotten to be sad about Ron. She felt guilty, and anxious about what was to come, maybe a little disappointed in the way things had turned out but she wasn’t sad. Not the way you were supposed to be after a break up. And that’s what made her upset. Was she some sort of unfeeling robot? After all, she had kissed another man just hours after breaking up with her boyfriend. What would people think if they knew? 

The bell rang and Hermione took her seat at her desk to anxiously await the arrival her students. Unsurprisingly, Harry was the first to enter. He only had to take one look at her and Hermione knew that Ron had told him everything. 

“How is he?” She asked nervously, standing and walking toward him. 

Harry hesitated. 

“Not good Hermione. He’s talking about leaving Hogwarts,” Harry said, concern etching his voice. 

“What?” she exclaimed. He was really going to leave Hogwarts because they had split up? No. That was absurd.

“He said he only came back because of you, and he would rather help George with the shop than stay here,” he replied.

“That’s absurd. He can’t just drop out of school,” she said, wringing her hands.

“That’s what I told him, but he seemed pretty sure,” Harry said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Hermione chewed her lower lip. She didn’t know what she had expected him to do, but it wasn’t this.

“You can change his mind Hermione. Just talk to him.You know how he is. He blows up and then comes to his senses and apologizes,” Harry said, “I’m sure you two can work it out.”

Hermione stared at him, the gears in her mind turning. Could she? Should she? After all, it was her fault that he was making this decision. 

Wait a minute. No it wasn’t. He was making this decision himself. Whether it was with the purpose of guilting her into getting back together with him or because he truly didn’t want to be at Hogwarts anymore made no difference. Hermione was not his keeper, and it was time she stop acting like it. 

“No, Harry, I’m sorry but I can’t,” she said firmly but gently.

“So you two really are done then?” Harry asked. His green eyes searched hers for any signs of uncertainty, but there was none there.

“Yes,” she replied, “we’re through.”

And she meant it. She couldn’t be responsible for Ron’s decisions. He had shown time after time that when things got too hard, he ran. Whether it was leaving them in that dratted forest or giving her the silent treatment because he didn’t like her cat. He always came back, but she was realizing, that maybe she deserved someone who wouldn’t leave in the first place.

Harry nodded looking a little lost. She knew that he hated getting caught in the middle of them, but she also knew without a doubt that she didn’t want to get back with Ron. The more she forgave him the more he hurt her next time and she was sick of it.

Before he could say anything, more students started filtering in and taking their seats. Hermione smiled weakly at Harry and went back to her desk, trying not to let the apprehension show as she waited for two faces to enter. 

When Malfoy walked through the door Hermione found that she wasn’t so much nervous as she was relieved to see him. If he hadn’t shown up then she would have known she had truly made an enormous mistake. But as he walked to his seat he made eye contact with her, the slightest hint of a smile on his normally blank face. Hermione looked away confused. Her first reaction was to smile back, but then she thought, what if this is all some sort of cruel trick? Be nice to her, get her to fall for him, and then rip the rug out from under her? She didn’t think that’s what it was, but that little voice in the back of her mind told her that no one would be attracted to her otherwise. 

She mentally shook her head. It didn’t matter if she felt some strange attraction to him or if it was some elaborate con. Nothing could happen. Nothing. And she would have to make that perfectly clear to him today. 

As the bell rang Hermione let out a breath of relief. Ron hadn’t shown up. Not that she had really expected him to, especially with the news of him leaving. Though she would not have been surprised had he shown up just to make some big scene. 

“Good morning class,” She greeted cheerfully. Or at least as cheerfully as she could after a night of virtually no sleep, a nasty break up, and a confusing kiss. 

The class greeted her in return. Judging by the looks on some of their faces, specifically the Gryffindors’ she gathered that news of her break up had already spread. 

“Today we are going to work on transfiguring duplicate items at once, please pull out your wands,” she said to the class. 

“This spell was taught last year so some of you may be familiar with it already,” she continued, “would anyone like to demonstrate?”

Malfoy raised his hand. 

Hermione raised her brow in surprise. He hadn’t drawn much attention to himself in any of her classes except for the odd question here and there about an assignment. He certainly had never volunteered to demonstrate anything. 

“Malfoy,” she called, gesturing for him to come to the front of the class. As he walked to the front the class fell oddly quiet. It seemed that most of them had forgotten he was even there.

Hermione pointed at an apple on her desk.

“I want you to duplicate that apple and then transfigure both apples into identical wood boxes,” she explained.

Malfoy nodded, pointing his wand at the apple. With a wordless incantation he duplicated it into an identical apple. The next spell was a little trickier, but he muttered an incantation and the apples became two small wooden boxes. They even had little stars etched into them. Hermione fought a blush at the small reminder of last night. Maybe he had been just as affected as her.

Hermione picked them up and examined them. They were completely identical down to the very last star.

“Very good, Malfoy,” she said impressed, “10 points to Slytherin.”

He went back to his desk and Hermione went on with the rest of the class, helping her students to perfect the spell. The class passed in a daze as she furtively stole glances at Malfoy, remembering the feel of his lips against hers. But it didn’t matter. It couldn’t happen again, and she had to make that clear. Before she knew it, the bell was ringing and chairs were scraping as students hastily got up to leave.

“Malfoy, stay back please,” she said, raising her voice to be heard. 

Looks were exchanged as the students left the classroom, whispering about what Malfoy had done to get in trouble. Harry lingered, silently asking if he should stay, but Hermione gave a little wave of her hand to shoo him away. 

She waved her wand, closing the door as Malfoy sauntered up to her desk.

“Yes, professor,” he purred, his face full of mischief.

A shiver went down her spine at the way he said professor. Merlin, this was going to be harder than she thought. Swallowing hard, she opened her mouth to speak.

“About last night,” she began confidently, “it was a mistake.”

He stepped closer, smirking sexily. She thought she hated his smirk, but this one was entirely different. It did something to her. Something not altogether unpleasant. Butterflies began fluttering about in her stomach.

“And it can’t happen again,” she continued, a little less confident. 

“Of course not,” he agreed, stepping even closer. His words agreed with her but his actions most definitely did not. The butterflies in her stomach turned to bats as he approached ever closer. 

“I’m your professor,” she said shakily. Was it hot in here? No, just her?

He smirked and continued toward her. Hermione’s heart beat faster with every step he took.

“It would be wrong,” she said breathily. She could reach out and touch him now if she wanted to. Merlin help her did she want to. 

“So very wrong,” he agreed, nodding. He was directly in front of her now, inches away. 

“And besides, I just broke up with Ron,” she said. She was warm all over, her heart trying to break free from her chest.

“Oh, but haven’t you heard?” he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “The rebound is always better,” he whispered in her ear.

She shivered. She couldn’t take it any more. 

Placing her hands on either side of his face she pulled him to her in a fiery kiss. He responded with fervor, wrapping his hands around her waist pulling her flush against him. She ran her fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss and moaned ever so slightly at the feel of his muscular body against hers. Where had the scrawny boy that she’d known disappeared too and how did he get these muscles?

He knotted a hand in her hair, tilting her head back for better access. She ran her tongue a long his bottom lip and he responded eagerly, opening his mouth, running his own tongue along hers. His hand fluttered along the side of her breast, she leaned further into him. He broke apart from her lips, moving to her neck instead. She tilted her neck as he led a trail of kisses stopping at the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. Where ever this passion between them was coming from, she hoped it never stopped.

Suddenly a knock sounded at the door effectively drawing them from their reverie. Hermione gently pushed Draco away from her, breathing heavily. 

“Just a moment,” she all but squeaked toward the closed door. 

Her face burned as she looked at him. What they had just done was all kinds of wrong, and yet all she could do was lament that they’d been interrupted.

Malfoy reached for her, straightening her robes and fixing her hair. Hermione did the same for him before turning to the door.

“No one can know,” she whispered, before opening the door.

He smirked again, clearly thinking he’d won. 

“Ah, Millie, hello there. Mr. Malfoy and I were just going over the details of his detention tonight,” she said smoothly.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Mr. Malfoy, I’ll meet you in the entrance hall tonight at 8:00 for your detention. You may go,” she said haughtily.

“Of course, professor” he winked, leaving her more confused than ever. 

Oh Hermione, what have you gotten yourself into?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco serves detention for "appearances" sake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning (or enticement to read haha): this chapter is rated M. Also be nice, I’m nervous lol

“I didn’t think you were actually going to make me serve detention,” Draco said sourly as he followed Hermione out to the school grounds. He assumed they were going to the Quidditch Pitch to clean the locker rooms or something else equally unpleasant. His only hope was that afterwards they would do something much much more pleasant.

“We must keep up appearances, musn’t we?” Hermione replied loftily. She was having far too much fun with this. She had a teasing glint in her eye that he couldn’t get enough of. What was it about this girl? Hermione Granger was the last person he should be having any type of feelings for, and yet there was something about her that made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t felt in a very very long time. He had laughed more in the handful of hours they had spent together than he had in years. He knew he should stop this, whatever “this” was, but he couldn’t. 

“Oh no, this is some sort of punishment, but for what I’m not sure,” he replied. She cackled somewhat evilly.

“You can think of it as retroactive detention for enlarging my teeth in fourth year,” she said haughtily.

“Hey! You should be thanking me for that!,” he replied, closing the distance between them now that they were out of view of the castle, “your teeth have never been straighter.”

So lost in their bantering was he, that he hadn’t realized that they were not in fact going to the Quidditch pitch until they were standing directly in front of the forbidden forest. He stopped dead in his tracks.

“We aren’t going in there, are we?” he asked. He’d never admit it but this forest gave him the heebie jeebies ever since the detention he served in first year. Sometimes he could still hear the sound of a slithering cloak on leaves. He suppressed a shiver.

“Scared?” Hermione teased, stepping closer to the forest threshold. 

“Of course not,” he lied, “but isn’t this a bit much for a fake detention?”

He tried to come off as aloof, but truth be told he would prefer not to go in the forest. 

“I told Hagrid I would pick some flowers for him that only grow on this one night a year,” she said, “you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

He refrained from rolling his eyes. That was such a girl answer. He didn’t want to go in the forest but he didn’t want to look like a coward either. Also, he didn’t want her going alone. 

“Why couldn’t the man have picked them himself,” he muttered under his breath before taking a few steps forward. 

She smiled encouragingly as they entered the forest.

As soon as they passed the line of trees it got eerily quiet and the air felt somehow thicker. Entering the forest felt like entering another world. A world where the wild ruled and humans were mere spectators. This time Draco did not suppress the shiver down his spine. He noticed Hermione didn’t either. 

“It’s this way,” she said, pointing with her lit wand toward a barely visible path. Draco wordlessly lit his as well.

As they walked through the silent forest Draco stopped worrying about the horrors of the forest and instead became extremely aware of their proximity to each other. The trees seemed to push them together, until their arms were all but touching. Her scent was intoxicating, jasmine with a hint of citrus. Every time his arm brushed against hers he felt a tingle travel through his skin. He felt more aware of her than ever and all he wanted to do was push her against a tree and do naughty things to her. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the trees opened up to a clearing. As they got closer he could see small glowing blue lights on the ground gently swaying back and forth. The glowing blue lights turned out to be flowers swaying in the wind. They glowed with a magic no human could create. It was truly breathtaking.

The entire clearing was lit by the unearthly glow and all of the creepiness and oppressive silence of the forest disappeared, replaced by a tranquility Draco had never felt before. 

“It’s beautiful,” Hermione gasped, her eyes reflecting the blue glow. Looking at her he thought she had never looked more pretty than in this moment, bathed in the blue light. He tore his eyes from her and faced the clearing again.

“It is,” he agreed, swallowing thickly.

It was open, filled only with flowers, except for one towering tree in the center. As he looked closer, he realized that the flowers weren’t planted in the ground they were falling from the tree.

He stepped forward, taking Hermione’s hand in his as he went. Neither seemed to notice, so entranced were they by the beauty in front of them. As they entered the clearing the wind picked up, sending the blossoms up in a swirling gust around them. 

He faced her, his hand entwined in hers, as the blue blossoms enveloped them in a world of their own. She looked at him wide eyed. He wondered if she was as shocked by the intensity of emotions as he was. Gently cupping her head, he pulled her to him in a sweet kiss. Their mouths met and for a moment it seemed as if time had stopped and nothing existed except for the two of them. She ran her hand down his back eliciting a subtle shiver as their lips delighted in the feel of each other. He pulled away and looked at her. She looked back. No words were spoken, and yet there was nothing left unsaid. There was just want.

She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and pulled him closer. He didn’t hesitate with this kiss, nor was it sweet. It was wild and passionate and chaotic. It was seven years of built up tension. Lips and teeth and tongue, soft moans, and pressing bodies. Draco guided Hermione until her back was up against the tree. She let out a huff of air but didn’t stop kissing him. He lifted her slightly, hooking her leg around his waist. She groaned when he ground into her, feeling the effect she had on his body. 

As he slid his hand up her leg, he had never been more thankful for skirts. She lightly bit his lip as he traveled higher and higher, gasping slightly when he ran his fingers over the damp cotton of her knickers. He teased her for only a moment before pushing the fabric aside, unable to resist touching her bare skin for even a second longer. 

She let out a deep moan when he finally touched her, running his fingers over her most sensitive skin in slow circles, building speed with the pace of her breaths, only to slow down again before she could go over the edge. Again and again he teased her.

“Please,” she gasped, grinding herself against his hand. 

He slid a finger into her, delighting in the feel of her, and then added another. He ran his thumb over her center, and that was all she could take. Her body gave a little tremor and she cried out as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

He wanted her. Merlin, he wanted her, but not in the middle of the forest and not up against a tree. Watching her squirm under his touch, feeling her against his fingers, kissing her until her lips were swollen, hearing her sounds of passion, it would have to be enough for now.

She came back down, breathing heavily and grinning like she couldn’t believe what they’d just done. He stepped back so she was no longer pressed against the tree but didn’t step away.

“I hope my detention was served to your liking,” he said, smirking, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

She drew a check mark against his chest with her finger, “Satisfactory,”

“Did I make up for the teeth?” He asked playfully.

“Yes, but there’s still the name calling, the pranks, and the tattling,” she said coyly.

Draco grinned widely. Who knew detention could be so fun?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! I'm in quarantine like the rest of the world and got this silly idea so I slightly drunkenly decided to write and post it :P Let me know if I should keep going!


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